In Plain Sight
by Morgian8
Summary: Eustace Chapuys has always been a man with many secrets to hide.  His relationship with Princess Mary is no different... nor, is it the only secret being hidden in the Tudor Court of the 1540s. Mary/Chapuys.
1. Prologue

_In Plain Sight_

By: Morgian8

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Duh.

* * *

Prologue

* * *

They rode in silence, fast and hard for their destination, lest their disappearances be detected from Whitehall. Unlikely, since no one knew who they were or what they were doing, but nevertheless, protocol demanded such precautions be taken... Just in case.

He pursed his lips as he tried to stop himself from clenching his teeth once more. If he was not careful, he would be seeing the apothecary again far sooner than he wished.

For a split second, he glanced over to his right at the second rider who was keeping her steed in a matched pace with his. He saw the shallowness of her breath exhale in a puff of cold mist. For a moment, doubt assailed him. He was hard on her before they left the palace, and had said things that no one had ever said to her, least of all him. Perhaps he was adding unnecessarily to it by making her ride so hard and so fast with little warning on a cold winter's night. He supposed they should just be happy that it was not snowing.

Sensing his gaze upon her, she shook her head and seemed to read his mind. "Stop worrying. I'm fine."

He frowned as he thought he detected a faint trembling beneath her cloak. His eyebrow raised as he looked more closely to see if she was shivering. "It would not be prudent to stop, but if you wish, we can rein in for a moment to catch our breaths..."

"No," came the clipped reply. "We can rest when this is done and behind us."

He turned his head back to the road, unused to her measured countenance considering how explosive a row they had both participated in not an hour before. He winced as he recalled the unusually truthful rant he had flung at her.

_"If there is one thing that you know has been my weakness, Mary, it is my fear that my children would end up in a tug of war between two parties who claimed to love them, but were really using them for ulterior purposes. Christ, why do you think I never married? I never wanted to put a child of mine in the position that Guigone and Pierre placed me when I was 14. Now, you have taken that choice away from me... you are your father's daughter more than I have ever cared to admit, Mary, and that is something that scares me. And moreover, you have set in motion things that will have history repeating itself no matter what I do!"_

His exasperation lasted only for a moment, before calm, cool, intellect took hold and he allowed logic to work the problem through. Mary had sat quietly, watching him pace in front of the fire. as he went over the only solution he could come up with, analyzing it again and again to see its strengths and flaws. She had said nothing when he had told her what the pair would be doing. Unusually, she merely inclined her head and did as he asked and followed him once the arrangements had been made.

More time passed as they continued deeper into the countryside, until at last Chapuys turned his mount off the main road towards a little used path. Mary followed, and soon a single light shown in the distance. A short time later, Chapuys was removing his hood as he extended his hand and clasped the warm handshake of an older, balding man. He smiled as he nodded and said, "Father Thomas, we are here."

The older priest raised an eyebrow as he nodded and said, "Indeed you are." Pausing for a moment, the priest inclined his head and said, "Madam."

Removing the hood of her cloak, Mary stepped forward and extended a hand. The priest bowed his head as he kissed it. Mary look surprised and said, "Father, do you know who I am?"

The priest smiled as he said, "My lady, you may not know this, but many years ago, I came to England from a small village near Zaragoza."

"Zaragoza, as in Aragon?" Mary asked curiously.

Thomas nodded. "Although my friends for many years have always referred to me as Father Thomas, I was born Pedro Tomasino, and I journeyed to England in the retinue of the Infanta."

"My mother," Mary said.

Thomas nodded. "Yes, whom you look like very much."

"And knowing who I am, you still will do as the Ambassador has asked?" Mary prompted.

Thomas nodded again, "Of course, for I agree with Eustace... In this particular case, it is best to hide things in plain sight..."

* * *

-TBC-


	2. Chapter 1

_In Plain Sight_

By: Morgian8

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Duh.

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

_March 1541_

A fire roared in the large hearth in front of which the couple sat. The couch was not overtly large, but was comfortable enough for a person to sit at one end of the couch and allow another to lie the length of it if the one who was laying down could rest his head in the lap of the one that was sitting. And so it was that King Henry VIII of England sat with his head in his lady's lap, staring at the ceiling, his eyes darting back and forth from the frosted over window panes against which the snow tapped to the crackling blaze that continued to burn in the grate. His only companion absentmindedly ran her fingers back and forth from the curve of his ear to the back of his head as she too sat contentedly staring at the fire, almost dozing. Henry had already dismissed all the other courtiers, and he found that even though his time at Richmond was drawing to a close, he was still reluctant to return to Whitehall.

"I am going to have to return to court on the morrow," he murmured at last.

Looking down at him, his companion continued the rhythmic stroking of his hair as she took a moment to process his words. At last, her reply came, somewhat wistfully, as she said, "I figured as much."

"I do not want to return," Henry said, gesturing at the window. "But, my grooms tell me that the snowstorm should be over in the morning. And I have already dallied overlong here, especially when I can do none of the hunting for which I originally came."

A small smile formed on his companion's mouth as she stopped stroking his hair and brought a hand to caress his cheek, "I do not know if I would say that you were unsuccessful in stalking all your prey, Your Majesty."

Henry smiled as he raised a hand to cover hers and said, "Is this your way of telling me that some of the prey I scented earlier has not fled in fear as I thought?"

Lowering her eyes, Anne of Cleves bit her lip to keep another smile from brightening them too much. "Fled in fear?" she questioned.

Henry nodded.

Looking down at him, she shook her head softly, "No, I do not believe that your prey has fled in fear." Anne was quiet for a moment before she said, "No, definitely not fear. Perhaps she is simply watching and waiting to see what the hunter will do next and see if she will allow herself to be caught without protest or struggle."

Moving to sit up, Henry slowly turned on the couch to face Anne. He raised an eyebrow as he said, "An intriguing observation, my lady, an intriguing observation." He paused for a moment more before he suddenly grabbed Anne's hand again and held it tightly until she met his gaze. Continuing the double entendre, Henry pressed, "Although you are not known to be an avid sportswoman, my lady, what would be your best assessment of the situation? Do you think it possible my quarry can still be caught?"

Anne wetted her lips a bit as they had suddenly gone dry. She sat silently as she carefully thought on the words she was tempted to use in response. At last, she said, "I have never known you not to eventually get what you want, Your Majesty. Not ever."

A smile cracked through Henry's intensity as he suddenly gave the hand a single squeeze and then kissed it before he gently placed it back in her lap. "Two trips to Hever- and this is my third to Richmond in as many months, my lady. Yet, still, my prey alludes me."

Anne chuckled slightly. "As I said, Your Majesty, I have never known you not eventually to get what you want from any man, woman, or child living. Your tenacity is well known. I am sure if your quarry is convinced that what you really desire is that which you claim to want above all else, she may yet be persuaded to yield to your advances."

Henry bent forward to whisper in Anne's ear, "You know, this stubborn streak that has developed in you is a damn bit more enticing than I thought it would be." Brushing her cheek with a brief kiss, Henry reluctantly stood. He gestured for Anne to remain seated as he bowed his head slightly and said, "I will see you tonight for dinner, my lady." Narrowing his eyes, his gaze took in one quick glance of her before he turned and left the room.

Several retainers awaited Henry just outside the door that he closed behind him. He moved with unusual dexterity and glanced out a nearby window. The sun was peaking through the clouds, and it had stopped snowing. Henry nodded to one of his grooms and asked, "I wish to go for a ride."

The young man had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the surprise from showing on his face. He nodded and said, "I shall tell the stable grooms to ready the horses, Your Majesty."

Henry nodded in return, "Good, good. And you," Henry pointed at another page. "Go and find his grace, the Duke of Suffolk. I wish him to ride with us."

The page bowed and promptly disappeared. Henry felt the burst of nervous energy that seized him begin to radiate off of him, causing him to move more quickly and with more purpose than he had in sometime.

A short time later, a small party sat mounted on horses just inside the palace's courtyard. Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk was the last to arrive and the last to mount. He winced as he settled into the saddle and took his place next to the king. Henry raised an eyebrow as Charles shrugged. Turning his head, Henry said, "Let's go, but the rest of you stay safely behind His Grace as I wish to speak to him in private."

Charles looked at Henry in askance, but remained silent until the small party exited the courtyard. After about a half hour of leisurely riding in the cold area, Henry turned his head to make sure that his other companions were far enough away that Henry and Charles could talk in private.

Charles looked at Henry with askance in his eyes. At last, Henry said, "What?"

Laughing slightly, Charles said, "Riding in this weather, Henry? Don't you think that it is a bit... much?"

Henry laughed a hearty chuckle and said, "I have been cooped up in the palace for four days. Given the fact that I came here to hunt, is it so wrong that I crave a leisurely ride in place of the hunt which the snow will keep me from successfully pursuing?"

"It is rather late for a snow storm of this magnitude, I will grant you, Henry, but really, you cannot tell me that what you were really hunting has not been acquired in your time at Richmond?"

Grinning, Henry asked, "Meaning?"

"Meaning, you are often in the company of Lady Anne, Henry, and there are rumors given how much time we've spent at her principle residences away from court," Brandon said simply. "Combined with the fact that your leg seems to be bothering you less these days, people have been murmuring in curiosity."

"They think I've taken a new mistress," Henry said.

Charles shrugged. "There has been some guesses that a lady in Lady Anne's retinue has caught your eye."

Henry's wide grin narrowed to an unusually thin one as he said, "The rumor is that I've taken a mistress among one of Lady Anne's women?"

Charles shrugged. "I would be lying if I said I had not heard murmuring that it is expected that you will ask the Queen to make a new appointment soon for a new lady-in-waiting."

"I've done that often enough they think that is my standard _modus operandi_, ehh?" Henry asked thoughtfully. He then frowned as he said, "The Queen..."

"She sent another messenger to you that arrived from Whitehall this morning, Henry," Charles said.

Waving it off, Henry said, "I am sure that it is more of the same... Her telling me that she loves me, inquiring as to my health and well being, and begging for my swift return, blah blah blah." Henry reigned in his horse for a moment and then said, "I do not look forward to returning to court, Charles. I look forward to returning to the Queen's bedchamber even less. I am beginning to detest the idea of the progress I planned when the roads clear."

Charles narrowed his eyes as he said, "You have taken a new mistress, haven't you?"

Henry smiled his devilish smile again, "Not yet, but if all goes as planned, I will soon."

"And how will you handle that on progress?" Charles asked.

Henry shrugged. "Catherine hates Mary. Aside from the fact that I need her by my side in the staunchly papist lands of the North, inviting Mary to join us on progress will occupy the Queen enough. Besides," Henry said. "God-willing, the Queen will soon let all know that she is pregnant and then I will have good reason for avoiding her bed and her vapid, excitable self."

"You're tiring of her?" Charles asked quietly.

Henry looked away as he said softly, "Let us just say that I don't like to admit it when I make mistakes, but this one is something that I cannot blame on others, even that poor sap Cromwell who lies cold in his grave."

Charles followed and said nothing as the king rode spurred his horse around in the return direction of Richmond Palace.

* * *

Two unusual personalities met each other in Thomas Cramner's private office in Lambeth Palace in London. The two personalities were unusual in that they held diverse opinions on religion and yet both held significant sway in governing Henry VIII's kingdom. As a personal secretary to the king, Thomas Wriothesley made certain that the secular affairs of the realm ran as smoothly as possible. As Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cramner's primary duty was to ensure the ecclesiastical health of the Church of England. Both men realized their importance as long as Henry Tudor was king of England. Both men also realized that, while they openly conformed to the moderate reformed church that King Henry had established almost ten years before as a result of his "Great Matter," each held rather contrary views on religion. Wriothesley would just as soon see England returned as a prodigal son to the larger world of the Roman Catholic Church in Latin Christendom. On the other hand, Cramner would have pushed for even more staunch reforms to purify the Anglican church of all remaining papist doctrine and rituals. However, both men knew that their ability to continue on with the work of the realm, as they saw fit, would last only as long as the king allowed them to maintain their positions. Thus, when Wriothesley had received a note from Cramner with a request that an "informal and private meeting of immediate and great importance" take place between the pair, Wriothesley could not help himself as curiosity fed his desire to see what the archbishop wanted.

Upon his arrival at Lambeth Palace, the archbishop's main London residence, Wriothesley had been quickly ushered into Cramner's private office. The archbishop stood up from behind his desk when he saw Wriothesley. Keeping a guarded look on his face, Wriothesley sat when Cramner gestured to a nearby chair.

"Master Secretary," Cramner began. "Thank you for coming. Can I offer you some refreshment perhaps?"

Unsure how to proceed, Wriothesley decided that there was no need to be rude when he nodded and said, "A cup of wine would not be unwelcome."

Cramner nodded at a servant who stood just behind Wriothesley. Coming forward, the servant poured two glasses and then quickly withdrew. Proffering one to Wriothesley, Cramner nodded by way of a toast and then set the glass down on the desk. The archbishop then sat for a moment and peered at Wriothesley as the man sipped his wine. Wriothesley hated to admit it, but the vintage was a better one than even he had. Sighing, Wriothesley placed the glass of wine on the desk and folded his hands as he said, "My thanks for the excellent wine, Your Grace. However, I think we are both astute enough men of action that I think we can put aside the time we might waste on social pleasantries if this meeting was taking place between any other type of men besides those such as ourselves?"

Cramner's eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds before he nodded and a small smile came to his lips. Folding his hands on top of the test, Cramner said, "As you wish." He was silent for a moment more before he said, "I asked you here today, because, I think we both know that our jobs our easier when the king is at his happiest."

Wriothesley shrugged. "I can find no fault in that simple claim, it is true," Wriothesley said.

"And," Cramner continued, "I think it would be safe to say that we would further agree that the king seems to be most happy when his mind is not forced to focus on the affairs of the realm."

Laughing, Wriothesley said, "You mean the king is happiest when he is distracted... By, how shall we say, a pretty face that provides a pleasant diversion?"

Shrugging, Cramner said, "It has always been thus, even during the days when he was married to the Dowager Princess of Wales."

"Queen Katherine," Wriothesley muttered under his breath.

Again, Cramner shrugged. He paused for a moment before he said, "I cannot reveal much at the current moment, Master Secretary, but the reason I called you here was to gauge your willingness to... How can I put this delicately? To gauge your willingness to assist me in providing the king with that which makes him most happy."

"The Queen seems to be-" Wriothesley began.

Cramner waved him off and said, "The King has been married to the Queen these many months, and she has yet to quicken with child. Already rumors are ripe that he is growing discontent with her."

Frowning, Wriothesley said, "I had not heard such 'rumors', Your Grace. Indeed, this is the first I have heard of such tales."

Cramner shrugged again as he said, "Let us just say that my network of spies is well paid and well manned, and I hear now tell you that there is a sign that if the Queen does not quicken with child, and soon, there may be an incident that will affect the ability for both of our works to be continued without harassment." Cramner licked his lip as he reached for his goblet of wine. He lifted it to his lips and said, "While I know that you were in the service of both Cardinal Wolsely and later Secretary Cromwell during the king's early years, I can assure you, Master Secretary, that being closer to the king as he pursues one 'great matter' after another is not a task you want to find yourself having to complete. It is better, as it were, to head off any 'great matters' before they are created, if you catch my meaning." Cramner then tipped the goblet back as he took a large sip of wine.

Wriothesley reached for his glass, trying to think of what both Cramner was and wasn't overtly telling him. Sipping his own goblet of wine, Wriothesley at last nodded. He was silent for a moment and then said, "As ever, I desire to please His Majesty in all matters. If you should ever have need of my help in pursuit of that goal, you may be sure to count on my support."

Cramner, for once, smiled a wide smile and lifted his goblet once more in toast. "Excellent, Master Secretary. Excellent. I knew I could count on your assistance despite our past... difference of opinions on other matters. Now then, perhaps I can enlighten you as to some other interesting 'rumors' I have heard at court that you may find interesting..."

* * *

The royal palace of Beaulieu was located in the county of Essex on the southeastern coast of England. Having been rebuilt by 1516 by Henry VIII, it had been a favorite residence of the Lady Mary Tudor, despite the fact that it had decidedly Boleyn connections - i.e., it had been sold by Thomas Boleyn to Henry VIII and later George Boleyn had briefly held control of the palace before the downfall of Queen Anne. The Lady Mary continued to favor that residence above others she maintained at Hunsdon, and even Hatfield, which now seemed more the domain of her half-sister Elizabeth than her own. While both lovely houses in their own right, both Hunsdon and Hatfield were located in the county of Hertfordshire. The seat of Edward Seymour's power base as first Earl of Hertfordshire, despite the closer proximity to London, Mary had always felt more comfortable at Beaulieu given its location in Essex. That shire's earldom had remained vacant since the death of Thomas Cromwell the previous year. More importantly, the further from London, the more freedom she had and more direct control over her household.

A freak snowstorm had brought Mary some unintended joy in what had been an otherwise miserable two and a half weeks.

Currently, she lay quietly on a couch in front of a blazing fire in the room that served as her library, private office, and general refuge from the world. The couch had been pulled closer to the hearth so that the heat might offer her some respite from the chilly air that only made her current sickness worse. As she lay stretched out on the couch, swathed in several blankets, Mary felt drowsy enough that she almost dozed. Her head, resting in the lap of her only companion, lay at just the right angle so that her sinuses partially drained and she could almost breath normally. Sighing softly, she smiled as she felt the rhythmic stroking of her loose hair at the crown of her head. She then said softly, "Tell me another story."

A soft chuckle came in response as the hand continued to stroke her hair, back and forth, back and forth. A baritone voice said, "One would almost think that you need a court jester or storyteller to keep you pleased, Mabella. It has only been in the last hour that I have actually felt you relax."

Mary, loathe as she was to shift her head lest her sinuses clog again, turned to look up at Eustace Chapuys. She could not tell if he was teasing her or not. She frowned, feeling too tired to chastise him severely. At last she merely said, "The sound of your voice soothes me, Eustace. And I know that if I sleep, for however short a period of time, then I will all the better the chance to get rid of this blasted sickness."

"A sickness," Chapuys said, "that I would be lying if I said did not scare me tremendously when Susanna's message to the king pleading that Doctor Butts come to attend you reached me before any personal word had been sent to me."

Mary sighed, "Susanna means well, but sometimes she can be singularly focused on her task. She knew that I was having trouble with my sinuses once again and that was why I had come from Hunsdon to Beaulieu to begin with... When she knew that I was having trouble breathing, she sent for Doctor Butts. I am sorry that you were not told more quickly, but-"

Chapuys was quiet for a moment and then stopped stroking her hair as he said, "I know we agreed that I should not have more knowledge of your movements than I had before, Mabella, but this one scared me. I thought, perhaps, that the illness when you first left court might be... something else."

At this, Mary unexpectedly laughed. "I am not sure how to take that, Excellency." She placed an unusual emphasis on his title.

Chapuys frowned, and Mary again chuckled. Her eyes lighted as he immediately realized, once again, she could read him easier than he thought at this point in time. His assumption was verified as soon as she said, "My, my, but we are sure of our virility, are we not Ambassador Chapuys?"

His frown growing deeper, Chapuys' eyes narrowed as he tried to once again see if his original fears had been right or not. At least, he nodded and began, "Mabella, if there is something that you need tell me..."

Realizing that nothing more than direct proof would placate Chapuys, taking his hand, Mary placed it lightly over her abdomen. She rubbed it up and down and said with a smile, "Sorry to disappoint you, Eustace, but, as you can see, I am still thin as a door rail."

Gently, Chapuys pulled his hand away and said, "You cannot blame me, Mary, for fearing my greatest fear coming to pass sooner rather than later."

Mary smiled slightly as she raised a hand and traced the outline of Chapuys' jaw. "Of course not. If you didn't expect the other shoe to drop, and sooner rather than later, you would not be you, Eustace. But fortunately," Mary paused for a few seconds before she continued, "Either you are not as virile as you would like to think, or fortunately, I am not as fecund as your fears seem to think I am. In all reality, the sickness has just been what Susanna said it was when you arrived, a bad sinus infection - nothing more."

Laying her head back down into his lap, Mary settled as comfortably as she could. She then breathed, "Nevertheless, I am glad you are here. And even more happy that the snow has stuck you here longer than you anticipated."

"Nevertheless," Chapuys mimiced, "Soon, as soon as it stops snowing, I must return to London. We are lucky that as soon as Doctor Butts was dispatched that the king left court for his hunting grounds just outside of London, but-"

"But, still you will leave soon," Mary emphasized as she closed her eyes with a sigh. "I know, Eustace, I know. But for now, please, tell me that story."

-TBC-


	3. Chapter 2

_In Plain Sight_

By: Morgian8

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Duh.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Although it was not a widely known fact, Mary Tudor was a very good liar. In later years, it would be said that her sister Elizabeth was actually the better actress in the family, having a game face that no one could easily read, or if they could read it, to do so accurately. In reality, some of Elizabeth's earliest teachings on how to bluff her way out of a situation where she did not want to give any more information away than absolutely necessary had actually been learned from watching Mary. Such as it was when the snow stopped and Ambassador Chapuys' retinue left Beaulieu, Mary sighed a shiver of relief and slowly padded to her bedroom. Once inside, she saw Susanna White, now Lady Clarencieux, waiting for her with a frown by way of greeting. Immediately, Mary sighed audibly, lifted a finger, and pointed it at her chief lady-in-waiting and best friend.

"Don't start, Susanna," Mary said emphatically as she gingerly climbed back into bed. She now freely winced as she shifted to try to get into a comfortable position. The emphasis in her voice was actually much more intentioned than Mary thought she would be able to project in her weakened state.

Susanna continued to frown as she pulled a coverlet from the foot of the bed and brought it up towards Mary's chin. However, she remained silent. Weary and already overwhelmed for having to act a part that she was in no condition to play in front of Chapuys, a man who knew her better than any one else ever had or would, but still didn't know her as well as he thought, Mary continued to stare at her as the silence thickened between the pair. Frustration finally peaked for Mary as she, at last, broke the stalemate impatiently as she snapped a single word, "What?"

Susanna appeared to jump aback as she looked up in wide-eyed innocence at Mary. "My lady?"

Mary let out another huge sigh, some of the defeat she had been fighting to keep from entering her voice creeping in as she said, "Don't you dare start that bloody 'My lady' baggage, Susanna."

"Well, you said not to 'start'," Susanna said in a much different voice than the very innocent one that she had just intoned to her mistress. In a very much more familiar manner, Susanna shrugged and said, "I thought you were going to tell him."

Mary was silent for a moment and looked over in the distance at the chaise lounge Chapuys had sat on before the pair shared a single kiss and he departed.

His words lingered in her mind... _*"Please don't ever scare me like that again, Mabella. I... I am not sure I would know how to fix such a problem as that... Please,"* _he had pleaded, in a most unusual and tender manner.

Mary had not had the heart to fan the flames of his fear even more. Instead of confessing all, she had simply smiled a radiant smile for him and let words that not only should have been said aloud, but, for both their sakes, _needed_ to be said out loud, remain unspoken. Looking back to her friend and servant, Mary said softly, "There was nothing to tell, Susanna."

"How can you possibly say that?" Susanna said. "After all the tears and promises you made me, when you made me give you my word that I wouldn't send for him, even though I thought you were dying? How can you possibly say there was nothing to tell when that was the *only* thing I asked of you to ensure my silence, Mary?"

"It wasn't the right time," Mary said at last. "I wasn't ready to tell him."

"If not now, then when?" Susanna said as she came to sit on the edge of the bed by Mary. "You know that it will only get more difficult the more time that passes, and the more damage that will finally be done when you get around to being ready to do the telling to him."

Hearing Susanna echo words that had been ringing in Mary's own mind for days, she figured that downplaying the veracity of Susanna's assessment was the best way to deal with it. "What is done is done, Susanna. And I will tell him when I am ready, but not now. Not-" Mary's voice trailed off, as she was unable to complete the sentence.

Susanna was quiet for a moment before she looked up at her mistress. "Mary," Susanna said, as she moved forward and gently grabbed one of her friend's hands. "'Tis true was only a couple of weeks ago, but even still, don't you think that-"

"No!" Mary said. "I don't think that telling Eustace now would have been a good idea. You saw how ill and fearful he was when he believed that it was just a nasty sinus cold that has laid me ill. Do you know what he would do to himself if he thought that his direct actions, in any way, had contributed to my current state?" Mary paused for a moment and then said, "No, there is no point in telling him right now. What happened was God's will... and, a common enough occurrence. Many women lose babies in their early months of confinement," Mary said at last. "Think on how many of my brothers and sisters died before my mother gave birth to me... and afterwards. I should just be happy that this one was so early when it happened. It couldn't have been more than five or six weeks. And there wasn't a lot of damage done..."

"That we know of!" Susanna cried. "You are fooling yourself if you think you can convince me that the seriousness of the infection in your sinuses and lungs was not somehow connected to the extremity of the fever and blood loss when you... lost the baby." Susanna looked off at a spot on the wall and lowered her voice before she said, "There was so much blood, Mary. 'Tis true that I know only a bit about midwifery, but that amount of blood loss cannot be natural. Not with the intensity of the pain you suffered from the cramping combined with the high fever. You can't tell me that is a normal happenstance for a miscarriage. We really should consult a trained midwife..."

"No!" Mary said, grabbing her hand out of her friend's grasp. "To gain that knowledge is too great a risk for both me and... my relationship with Eustace. Maybe at some point in the future, but not now..."

Trying to take another, more practical tactic, Susanna said, "You can only use the excuse of a cold for so long, Mary. You know the king will send his physician if you are absent from court for much longer. You know already there are whispers he wants you there when he and the queen leave for the northern progress in a few weeks."

Mary frowned as she said with a heavy heart, "All know that I have suffered from bouts of ill health, Susanna. Especially in the late winter and early spring time. Sinus infections are debilitating-"

"You can use that excuse all you want with others, Mary. But I know better..." Susanna said in exasperation. She was quiet for another moment before she said softly, "I had hoped at the time you would take advantage of the Ambassador's unexpected appearance at Beaulieu to confess to him what had happened and to take solace from one another for your loss, but I can see that you are just as stubborn now as when you commanded me not to send word to him when you lie ill."

"I have said it before, and I will say it again, Susanna. What good could it have done him to know that I was sick?" Mary asked softly. "It would have brought him unnecessary pain and worry and exacerbated his already overwhelming fears where our relationship is concerned. I told you two months ago when I thought that I might be with child that there was no point in causing him unnecessary grief-"

Susanna's eyes widened as she said, "Unnecessary grief, Mary? Unnecessary grief? Can you just for a moment imagine how much unnecessary grief might turn into a tried and true overwhelming grief that the Ambassador might use to punish himself with for the rest of his life if you had died as a result of losing the child?"

Mary shook her head as she said, "It is a moot point now, anyway. What is done, is done. And I will tell Eustace about it, one day, in my own way and on my own terms. But not now..." Mary paused for a moment and nodded, "Perhaps after the northern progress is complete and my place in my father's affections is unquestioned. But, until then... I can't have even one more soul than necessary know what has happened... Not when so many intrigues about the court could cause the entire kingdom to be thrust into a bout of civil war if even one mistake is made."

Susanna stared wide-eyed for a moment more at the woman who sat in the bed. The increasing staunchness of her steely resolve was strange for Susanna and was definitely something that she would have to get used to... For the moment, all she could do was rely on protocol as she handed Mary the medicine that had been prescribed by Doctor Butts. Dosing herself once more, Mary handed the bottle back to Susanna, said goodnight, and then, only once she was certain that Susanna had left the room to switch shifts with the maid that would sit by her door throughout the night, Mary let the tears she had been holding back all day fall silently down her cheeks and on to her pillow.

* * *

Thomas Howard, the third Duke of Norfolk, walked in unceremoniously towards the Queen's Royal apartments. He nodded once at the two guardsmen who stood in front of the door. Recognizing the preeminent duke of the realm, the guardsmen did nothing as Howard opened the door himself and marched straight into the Queen's receiving room.

Jane Boleyn, Viscountess Rocheford, hurried to the door and bowed slightly at the Duke. "Uncle," she said. "It is a pleasure to see you."

Howard waved off this niece by marriage and said, "Go away, Jane."

"But," Rocheford began to protest. "The queen-"

"My business is with Kitty and with her alone. You may GO," Howard said imperiously.

Jane, flummoxed by this uncle as no one else in the Boleyn or Howard family had ever frightened her, lifted her head to look over the duke's shoulder. She saw, with relief, a nod from where the queen sat in her window seat. "Go on, Jane. I want you to get me that length of gold and scarlet threaded ribbon from the storeroom anyway."

For just a moment, Jane hesitated in askance at the queen before Howard's voice boomed once again, "Go!" Scared even more than she had been a moment before, Jane scurried out the door, letting to click softly behind her.

Catherine Howard, fifth wife and queen to Henry VIII raised an eyebrow at her uncle. She did not move from the window seat where she sat. Instead, she merely looked down at her uncle, refusing to be cowed by him as she said, "I absolutely hate that name. If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times, Uncle, that I do *_not_* want to be called 'Kitty' anymore! It is a childish name, and as I am no longer a child, but as I am the most important woman IN ALL OF ENGLAND, you will NOT CALL ME 'KITTY' ANYMORE." The queen's voice rose an octave higher than she would have liked, but she was still getting used to controlling her voice.

Norfolk in response seemed to have decided he would pay no notion to his niece's incessant natterings and said, "What would you have me call you then, Your Majesty?"

"'Niece', as you have always done, Uncle, if we are in private. 'Catherine' or at the very least 'Cate' as His Majesty calls me, if you must." Catherine was silent for a moment before she added, "Although I think I do like 'Cate' the best. It sounds more grown up."

Norfolk could not help but laugh as he said, "Very well, _'Niece'_."

Catherine smiled, "Thank you, Uncle."

Norfolk nodded. "Now, not to put too fine a point on the issue, but I have need to know the answer to an indelicate question."

"No," Catherine said, suddenly becoming rather sullen.

"No?" Norfolk asked incredulously. "What do you mean, 'no'? Do not forget your place, Niece, as I, who have helped other nieces rise just as high, can help them fall just as quickly, should the whim seize me. Now, I will ask whatever questions I wish."

Catherine waved him off as he said, "I didn't mean to be rambunctious, Uncle, and forbid you asking your question."

Norfolk scoffed at the use of the word 'forbid', but he remained silent as Catherine said in a quieter tone of voice, "I mean the answer to your question is 'no'. I am not with child."

Sighing, Norfolk rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at his niece, "Are you certain?"

Catherine shrugged. "My courses came last week while the King was off to Richmond... again."

Moving to sit down, without leave Catherine noticed wryly, Norfolk frowned. "The king is visiting Richmond again?"

Catherine nodded. "His messages say that he has enjoyed a spot of unexpected good hunting and riding through the royal park there, but..."

"Hunting... in March?" Norfolk said. "That is most unusual."

Looking down at her hand, Catherine said, "Oh, it's the truth that Henry is hunting something at Richmond, all right, but it's not animal prey that he'fs scented."

Raising an eyebrow, Norfolk said, "If it is not animal prey, than it is prey of another kind that has ensnared the king?"

Catherine nodded. She then abruptly stood and started to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. "The whispers... I hear the whispers from both my ladies and the pages and other courtiers who are counting the days it has been since the king has come to my bed, Uncle. Too long, they whisper, it has been since he has bedded me and all know I am not with child, so that excuse cannot be used. Instead, they say that the king has more pleasurable pursuits at Richmond, spending time with that damnable retinue of that bloody Flanders's Mare and her ugly, snot-nosed German retinue of Brunhilda house fraus!"

Norfolk stopped himself from cracking a smile in order to emphasize the seriousness of the situation to his niece, for the Howard family would once again loose their power and prominence at court if this girl of the family fell as the first one had.

"It is said," Norfolk began at last, "That the Lady Anne's ladies are actually almost all English appointments."

Catherine screwed her face in an upturned look of disgust as she said, "I don't give a damn if the whores are German, English, or Russian! The king obviously has been ensnared by one of her ladies, and the reason he is not in my bed is because he is sharing hers!"

Raising an eye, Norfolk said, "Then I would heed this advice well, Niece, as you are not the first Howard girl I have given it to. The king is the king. He takes what he wants when, where, and how, and no one of this earth can gainsay him. My counsel to you is thus... Do what you must to get the king back to your bed so that you get with child. Produce a prince, and your place in the king's heart, and on your throne, is both secured and ensured. And, in the meantime, bear his pastimes with dignity and grace, and do *_not_* make dramatic scenes over them."

Catherine bit her lip as she said, "If I could find out which one of the stupid bitches he was bedding, I would find some way to be rid of her... Maybe send her to the Tower."

Norfolk shrugged, "Another niece of mine was once in the same position as you yourself are now in, Catherine. And it is now she who is a permanent resident of the Tower while her competition is revered in St. George's Chapel as the king's _one _true and beloved wife. Think on that before you chose to have another fit over the king's... indiscretions."

"If he is in her bed," Catherine continued to whine, "I can assure you he won't come to mine, and if he doesn't come to mine, how in the name of all that is holy can I quicken with child."

Norfolk stood and turned to leave. He stopped before he reached the door and said, "I have spoken with the Dowager Duchess of how you spent your time as a youth in her household, my lady. I know that you were very good... at procuring that which would keep you in high spirits and help you to attain your goal." Norfolk's gaze shifted to Catherine's flat midsection. "I suggest, that those are a set of skills with which you need to reacquaint yourself so that regardless of how much or how little attention the king pays you, come Christmas time, the court can celebrate not only the Lord's birth, but that of a Duke of York as well."

With a nod, Norfolk turned sharply on his heel and left. Catherine bit her lip in frustration before she swiftly moved and grabbed a nearby vase off of the table her uncle had just been standing in front. She then reached back, and with all her might, Catherine threw the vase against the opposite wall. The porcelain vase merely dropped to the ground, refusing to shatter. Her inability to even smash a vase elicited a frustrated shriek of annoyance and despair that was the culmination of what had been a very bad day for Catherine Howard, Queen of England.

* * *

Some days after Mary's heated discussion with Susanna, there was still a heavy silence that each felt when the other was alone in the other's company. The miscarriage had exacerbated Susanna's tendency to mother Mary while it merely fueled Mary's tendency to assert her independence. Mary's ill health continued for another week. Her poor state did eventually bring a visit from Dr. Butts himself when it was determined by Susan and Mary's other ladies that the restorative tonic that he had prescribed was doing little to help her. When it was suggested to Mary that being bled might help her humors come back into balance, Mary threw such an uncharacteristic fit that Dr. Butts returned to Whitehall Palace to give his report to the king with little new information to share. The Lady Mary, Dr. Butts said, was suffering from a severe sinus infection. Fatigue and increasing breathing difficulties compounded the problem. Henry, distracted by plans for his progress north in the summer months, shrugged when Butts told the king that all he could recommend was that the Lady Mary should be allowed to remain at Beaulieu undisturbed and in peace as the body allowed itself to heal.

Such a report eventually made its way to Richmond Palace and was met with a deep frown on the visage of the King's Dear Sister, Lady Anne of Cleves. Feeling that mayhap she could do some good, Anne wrote to Mary and asked for permission to visit. Even in her poor state, Mary welcomed the diversion from the depression that had set in after the miscarriage which others thought to be merely a lingering melancholy from her long illness.

Thus, shortly after the court had recessed for the Easter celebrations, Anne's retinue made its way into Essex County. When she arrived, Susanna helped escort Lady Anne to Mary's private bedchamber. En route, the pair talked as Anne inquired anxiously, "And my lady has not left her bed chamber in how long?"

"It has been some weeks," Susanna reluctantly admitted. "She... She can breathe easier than she did, but she is very tired. What little energy she does have is spent in prayer or meditation." Susanna stopped for a moment and said, "Aside from the court physician that His Majesty sent, the Lady Mary has not received any visitors for some time, my lady. She has stopped attending to her correspondence and her listlessness concerns me. Truth to be told, before your letter, I was becoming very worried as she had not shown any preference one way or another about anything before your proposed visit."

Nodding, Anne said as the pair turned another corner, "The Lady Mary ever was and has been a kind and true friend to me since my earliest days in this land. When I came to these shores as a foreigner, alone and destitute of female companionship, she was among the few who welcomed me into the king's family. For that alone, I would do all I can to help her. But, she is much more than that. As good and as gentle a lady, I have never known. Whatever has caused this listlessness, I will do what I can to sweep it away."

Susanna smiled, and then opened the door to Mary's bedchamber. Anne waited at the door, and waited as she heard Susanna say softly, "My Lady, Lady Anne is here to see you at long last."

There was silence for a moment before the reply came, "Please, bring her to me, Susanna."

Susanna turned in the doorway, and gestured for Lady Anne to come forward. What Anne saw when she gazed upon Mary not only shocked her but almost broke her heart. Mary sat in the window seat wrapped in a heavy blanket. She was unusually pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Her hair, normally a vibrant auburn that shined in the firelight, lay pale and dull in a simple braid that came down her shoulder. Mary smiled as she extended a hand and Anne came forward to kiss it with a small courtesy.

"Forgive me for not rising, Lady Anne," Mary said softly. "I am afraid I have little strength these days."

Anne nodded, "I have been quite concerned about you, my dear."

Inclining her head at a nearby chair, Mary said, "Thank you, my lady. I assure you, though, I am on the mend, slowly but surely."

Anne swept from Mary's pale frame - one that she was willing to bet all the money in Cleves on was emaciated under the blanket - to the shuttered window. Anne said, "It grieves my heart, my Lady, that you are not well. The spring weather is quite fine out, and it was a lovely ride from London here."

Mary smiled weakly, "Riding... It has been so long since I have ridden-"

"God willing," Anne said, "Soon your health shall be returned to you and you will be able to ride out once more as you have loved to do so often in the past..."

Mary nodded again with a slightly larger smile on her face. For the first time in many weeks, she could not help but be distracted from her own troubles. The woman who sat in front of her, while she seemed on the surface to be the same lady that Mary was to view as a beloved aunt, now seemed to be slightly different. Mary was uncertain how she was different, but there was a definitive glow of energy that seemed to be radiating off of the woman. Her exuberant behavior could do nothing but cheer Mary who had been so sad for so long.

Nodding at the woman once more, Mary said, "So tell me, my Lady, what is the latest gossip from London? I am afraid that our news here is very old given my seclusion since the Christmas court-"

And so the pair began to talk and Mary did not realize how much time had passed before Susanna, who had disappeared at some point, suddenly reappeared and said somewhat apologetically, "Forgive me, my lady, but a messenger has arrived, and I think it urgent that you see this one personally."

Mary raised an eyebrow at her chief lady-in-waiting and said, "Why, Susanna?"

Susanna leaned in quietly and said, "It's a messenger from the king."

Mary felt her heart skip a beat as she nodded, and said, "By all means, show him in."

A few moments later, a young man with brown hair and flashing blue eyes came to bow before Mary. He carried a heavy parchment sealed with the royal signet and bearing her father's own handwriting. Mary could recognize her father's scrawl even from a distance. The messenger, who was garbed in the royal Tudor livery of black, scarlet, and gold, remain bowing as he extended the parchment to Mary. Reluctantly, Mary took it and then reached to Susanna who handed her a gold sovereign.

"Thank you for your speedy service, Master-?" Mary's voice trailed off as she took a step towards the messenger.

At last, the young man stood and lifted his gaze to meet Mary's. "Culpepper, ma'am. Thomas Culpepper," he said softly.

"Master Culpepper," Mary repeated. Extending her hand with the sovereign, she said, "You may have this then with my thanks."

Culpepper reached out to take the coin and inclined his head. For just an instant, his eyes met Mary's and he felt his heart skip a beat. His mouth went dry as his hand lingered just a bit longer than it should have when taking the coin from Mary. However, his small breach in protocol was quickly forgotten as he bowed once more and said, "Many thanks, My Lady."

Mary, too absorbed in the contents of her father's message didn't realize the hungry stare the young man flashed for a brief moment before he disappeared from the room. Instead, Mary broke the seal and quickly scanned the message's contents.

"Bad news, my lady?" Anne asked at last, knowing she was just as anxious as Susanna to know what the king had said.

Mary bit her lip and then said, "Neither good nor bad news, Lady Anne. It seems my Lord father has decided that instead of merely attending the king and the queen at their departure when the court goes on progress to the North, he has commanded that I attend him in full honors."

"To attend the queen, you mean?" Anne asked curiously. "As one of her ladies?"

Mary shook her head. "No. It says I am attend the king and court... He doesn't want me there for the queen, he wants me there for myself."

Anne clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, how wonderful, my lady. It means you will get to spend some time with your father."

"And the queen," Mary added with a slightly hint of displeasure in her voice. "And the queen."

-TBC-


End file.
